Warm Sand and Cold Hearts (and mediocre storytelling)
by kiwipixel77
Summary: The story of a Dragonborn who fell in love with a woman. Except he's a Skooma-addicted loser. And a Khajiit. And she's a Nord. What could go wrong?
1. First Meeting

**A/N: Hey there! How is everyone? Good, good, that's good. So here's a prompt I read on another Skyrim thread somewhere, and I thought I'd try it out. **

**Basically it says that no matter the race of the Dragonborn,****in-game the feelings and affections they have for any NPC will be reciprocated unflinchingly. For example, an Argonian can marry, say, Lydia, and she will seem perfectly happy. But what if this didn't happen? What if the Dragonborn is a completely desirable person in terms of character — funny, intelligent, compassionate, warm, caring — but his love interest does not return his feelings?**** So this is a story where the Dragonborn — who is either an Argonian, Khajiit, or Orc, because they would fit the prompt best — falls in love with an Elven or Human NPC only to find out that the NPC does not love them back, simply because of what they are. **

**This little project will consist of short chapters (like this) written very fast with minimal editing. Don't worry, they're decent. Enough. Haha. I've just been out of writing recently and am trying to get back in.**

**And for all my followers and fans of ****_Oblivious_****, of whom more than a few I know will read this, I apologise. This summer has been really shitty (swear warning – oops, too late) and I've just not been up to the challenge of tackling that story again yet. I will, though. Soon. I have been working on it. Let's just say this is practice.**

**Anyways, sorry for the A/N novella. Hope you enjoy the story!**

* * *

He knew he was tempting fate by being there.

He knew the wall was too high, and the drop too far, and that the guards would surely be down there.

And he knew it was too dark for anyone to see, but even if they did, Riften was the kind of place where words, or the lack of them, could be bought for the right price.

But mostly he knew he couldn't last another day without Moon Sugar running through his veins.

So, to the Khajiit, it was worth it.

He blew out a shaky breath, a little white puff in the dark, and thought in his head, _well, here it goes._

He scaled the wall quite well despite his shaking hands and weak limbs. _Gods damned this place._ It was harder to find the Sugar in this Godsforsaken frozen wasteland than it was to smuggle Skooma across the border. He knew. Because he'd tried. He almost lost his head, mind you, but he'd survived anyway.

He needed it. Bad. That's all we'll say about that.

He perched on the wall when he reached the top, scanning the dingy city as easily as if it were day. There was no one wandering the streets, save the guards, of course, and a thief picking the lock of that house near the cemetery. The place stank of stagnant water and oil and fish, and the boardwalks were falling into disrepair. It was the first time he had ever seen Riften, but the city reeked of lies and slander and apathy and thieves. And Moon Sugar, probably. He smiled. Everything he loved.

The dull sound of wood on wood caused his ears to swivel in the direction of the docks. He froze, wild instincts getting the better of him, but he didn't see anyone. It was probably just a barge or a raft hitting a post. Maybe. He forgot about it either way.

It was nearing dawn, so the guards would be switching off soon. To anyone with a little patience and in half their right mind, waiting until that guard stood by the inn dickered off to let his buddy take his place would be the ideal time to drop down into the streets. Unfortunately, the Khajiit had neither.

Heart beating wildly at the thought of that sweet, sweet Sugar lighting up his nerves, he dropped without looking first, and realised halfway down that he would most likely impale himself on that broken barrel. He twisted midair like a housecat, scrambling madly at the wall, but landed face first on the dirty cobbles anyway.

The Khajiit stood quickly, eyes darting around for any guards. Or anyone who saw his embarrassing display and the lack of stealth his race was known for. He sighed when no one came running.

Brushing himself off and giving a small satisfied laugh, he turned around, ready to find someone who could, ah, _help him_ with his _quest_.

And he was met with a swift punch to the face.

"Ah!" he cried, grabbing his nose and stumbling back. "What the –?"

He felt a hand grab the dirty linens he called a shirt roughly and blinked through his watery eyes.

"What are you doing here, sneak-thief?" the woman asked. He noticed her feminine voice before he noticed her strong Nord accent. Strange, he thought, but Sugar does strange things to you.

"This – this one doesn't –" she punched him in the face again, and had she not been holding onto him, he would've fallen back this time.

"Don't give me excuses, _cat,_" she spat. "What are you doing here?"

The Khajiit felt his blood creep down his nose and over his fur onto the ground. His eyes were watery but the woman let him blink it away this time.

She was tall for a Nord, perhaps as tall as himself, and adorned with heavy armour, maybe iron. She had war paint on her face, a great dark bar of it, and a lot of blond hair framing her face like a mane. She looked like a lion to him. A lioness. And there was such a fierce fire in her eyes that the cat shrunk back. He had no doubt she could kill him.

Now the Khajiit was, admittedly, not thinking too straight, the withdrawal from the Sugar taking it's toll. But he was still a Khajiit, _a cat_, and he still possessed his beguiling wit. Perhaps his best defence of all.

"This one's name is Ja'tesh." He smiled his most charming smile and resisted the urge to wince at the shooting pain in his nose. "A peaceful greeting to you."

Ja'tesh almost laughed at the shock that crossed her face. She didn't let him go, though.

He looked around, pretending to ignore the hand near his chest, and sighed. "Lovely night, no? Ja'tesh was only taking a walk back here. Too many, ah, _disapproving_ eyes near the market. It is dark, and cold, and late, and, Khajiit knows, too dangerous to be walking around. This one will go home now." He smiled wider.

She wasn't buying it. He could tell. True, it was a stupid, weak excuse, but he was tired and he hadn't lied about being cold. Not his best work.

And, if he was being honest (which was _so_ hard sometimes), he would admit he was impressed. Khajiit had their stereotypes but so did Nords. They were big, brutish, and dumber than trolls. This one, this _lioness_, was different.

But he found a loophole. He always did.

"Ja'tesh sees you as a warrior, no?" Her eyes narrowed, probably wondering where he was taking this. "Hard armour. Heavy boots. Big- ah, _tall _build. All signs of a true Nord warrior." His smile darkened. "But Ja'tesh does not see a warrior weapon."

Her eyes hardened and he noticed a flash of… _something_ cross her face. Damned Sugar. It was messing with his senses.

Regardless, he had caught her.

He laughed. "Ah. So that is it. Ja'tesh suspects you would have killed him if you had a weapon handy. So what happened? Lost in a bet? Dropped in the water? Stolen by thieves? Of course! A thief stole it, no?"

She eyed him hard for a moment, unsure. Then she let him go.

"Yes. It is true."

Ja'tesh concealed his smile by smoothing down his crumpled shirt. He was free.

The Khajiit could have tried to bolt, but there was a twenty-foot wall on one side and a lion of a woman on the other. He could have fought her, but, weapon or no, she could still probably kill him. So, there was only one thing for him to do.

"Look here…?"

"No. No names."

"As you wish. See, Ja'tesh is not dim, and he can tell you are no fool either. This one was caught entering the city – "

"_Illegally."_

"Yes, yes. And we know Khajiit are not allowed here. We know Khajiit get thrown in prison for breaking the law. _But,_" he stepped closer, smiling again. "We _also_ know you are a warrior in a city of thieves without a weapon." He clicked his tongue. "What to do, what to do? Seems we are both caught." He stepped even closer. "Perhaps we could come to a, well, let's say, _arrangement_ of sorts," he purred.

The woman stepped back and sized up the thin, surely Skooma-addicted thief in the dark.

And she said "Yes."

And that is how Ja'tesh of Elsweyr fell off a wall, got punched in the face (twice), and met Mjoll the Lioness.

* * *

**A/N: So yes, I've chosen Mjoll. She's pretty cool and probably the most open of all Nords to the Khajiit. We'll see where this goes.**

**And it just occured to me you might not know who Mjoll is. If not, you're missing out. She's the awesome Nord warrior in Riften who's been all over Tamriel and whose weapon was lost in that Dwemer mine (totally forget the name, and even if I didn't, I probably couldn't spell it anyways). Also, that annoying little shit Aerin follows her like a lost puppy everywhere. _Everywhere._ We'll see how Tesh deals with him (can't wait!).**


	2. Three Things

**A/N: Hey again! I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to read, favourite, follow, and comment on my story! It really means a lot, you know. So, thank you again!**

**Here's the second chapter of Warm Sands. It jumps a little bit, but generally spans the whole next day. It's also a bit more ****_angsty_****, shall we say. I wanted to give some depth to Ja'tesh and Mjoll, though.**

**As well, sorry for not updating sooner! I've been busy with work and other stories and this just sort of fell to the wayside. Here you go, though! Thanks for your patience!**

**And, once again, this was written relatively quickly with minimal editing, so if something seems out of place or anything, let me know!**

**I'm not terribly happy with this chapter, especially the beginning parts, but I think the end is decent so bleugh, whatever. This is mostly a practice story anyways.**

**As well, this is something I like to do for those who review my stories. I like to leave a review reply here. I know it's weird, but hey, you should get recognition for your effort and support! Those will always be at the bottom, after the chapter ends.**

**Hope you enjoy, and It would be great if you felt like letting me know what you think!**

* * *

Khajiit were not meant for the cold, hard lands of Skyrim.

The snow tends to stick to the fur between the toes, packing it in and making walking a painful chore. It settles softly on the fur but melts and chills to the bone. It covers the rocks and the hills and the trees and the heart in a cold embrace that never seems to truly go away.

Ja'tesh longed for the warm sands and endless shores of Elseweyr. Almost as much as he longed for more Sugar. And to be out of this damned cold place.

He'd managed to find some last night in a barge near the docks, despite the Lioness kicking him out on his tail after she told him to meet her by the gates in the morning. No doubt it was a shipment for some wealthy bureaucrat or maybe the workings of a master thief. He didn't care, though. He'd stolen enough to sate his itch and then some. Enough to fit in all the little pockets of his ratty tunic. Enough for a while, at least. He couldn't remember being happier.

But the cold and the snow seemed to melt all that away, and he shivered by the gates of Riften waiting for the Lioness with a frown on his face. Despite the Sun shining down on his fur and the surprisingly windless, otherwise perfect morning it was turning out to be, he could not feel it. And the glares he was getting from the city guard were just as cold and cruel. He shivered pathetically under the lone pine.

Twin Moons, he hated this place.

True to her word, the Lioness met him at three hours to noon. She threw open the heavy wooden gate and looked around for the Khajiit, shielding her eyes from the sun. Ja'tesh surprised himself by smiling when he saw her, her wild hair forming a mane around her face, but then he frowned. She was not alone.

"Please, will you just _listen_ to me for once?" the man, an Imperial he thought – Ja'tesh could tell if he squinted his eyes – trialed not a foot behind her, hanging off her every word like some lost cub. Or a puppy.

He disliked this man already.

"I do listen, Aerin. I've been listening all my life."

Ja'tesh could read people like a book. He had to, living the life he did. He could tell the Lioness was growing impatient with the man.

But he didn't need that skill to see the blush on this _Aerin's _dark face from a hundred yards away. "That's not what I mean. You know that."

"Well then, let me be."

The Lioness looked up and nodded to the Khajiit when she saw him. If Ja'tesh was not such a good actor he would have laughed aloud at how large the man's eyes grew. It looked like they would fall out of his head.

"What? _This_ is your help?" Aerin sneered as they came to a stop under the lone pine. "No, you can't be serious! A _cat?"_

Ja'tesh smiled. "A Khajiit, mind you. We are not your housecats."

Both ignored him. And both the name-calling and ignorance had lost its effect on the Khajiit over the years.

"I am, Aerin. He is accompanying me."

Aerin looked at him again and Ja'tesh felt as if he were wares on display at a caravan. He did not like how this man turned his nose up or how he frowned. But he did like how expensive his overcoat and boots looked.

He turned his puppy eyes onto the Lioness again. "Stay here. _Please_. I'll buy you another sword."

The woman shifted her travel pack uncomfortably, her iron armour scraping against itself as she did so. "I can't. You know how important it is to me."

"Mjoll – "

"I'm leaving, Aerin. Today. Right now."

Aerin frowned but stepped closer to her, a hand wavering over her arm, his expression soft and caring. It nearly made Ja'tesh gag.

"I won't be there if you get hurt this time," he said, a smile mixed with undeniable, unwavering devotion.

"I know. And I thank you every day for that. But I am not going alone this time."

Aerin let her go and stepped back, eyes stormy and face twisted into a sharp mask of rage. It was scary how quick he'd turned. "What, you think this little cat will save you? You think his little claws will be enough to stop the Centurion? Are you mad? Look at him! He's pathetic!"

"Pathetic?" Ja'tesh growled, stepping up to Aerin. He shot out a hand to his chest and squeezed a bit, not enough to draw blood, but enough to hurt. He held out his other hand in front of the Imperial's face, flexing his fingers and claws. "Do these look pathetic to you?"

"Let him go, Cat." The warning in the Lioness's voice was real, But Ja'tesh smiled as he watched this _Aerin_ swallow and dart his eyes from side to side.

This was _fun_. Maybe he'd have to do this more often. So he decided to do what he was best at and push his luck.

"This one may be a little _cat_ but he knows how to bite." He smiled wide enough to show the man all his teeth.

"Let him go!" The Lioness put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him away roughly. Aerin let out a breath and brushed himself off, pretending the whole ordeal wasn't as scarring as it really was.

Ja'tesh smiled.

The Lioness grabbed him again and pushed him away toward the open road, causing him to stumble a bit. "Enough. Let's go." She twisted around before she followed him. "Farewell Aerin," she said, still annoyed at him and at the Khajiit now. "I will return soon."

Aerin nodded silently. Ja'tesh followed the Lioness down the road but turned around and smiled widely again, giving the man one last look at his teeth before disappearing into the forest.

"By the Nine, Cat, do you _try_ to create trouble? Or does it follow wherever you go?"

He shrugged. "Ja'tesh does not know. It is always with him, regardless."

The Lioness shook her head. "Regardless or not, if you are to be travelling in my company there are a few rules we must establish. Just three."

"Of course," he purred.

"One: do not threaten my friends, even if they deserve it."

"Ja'tesh agrees," he nodded.

"Two: no lying, cheating, or stealing. No gambling, either. And no sneaking off on me. Or anyone else. Do not leave my sight."

"What, are we allowed no fun?"

The Lioness turned her eyes to him and frowned.

He shrugged again. "Khajiit only says in jest. Of course we will listen."

"Good. And three: give Aerin back his coin purse."

Ja'tesh smiled.

* * *

"Keep up, Cat! We've got a long ways to go before sundown."

"Ja'tesh apologises. The road makes this one weary."

Khajiit may not be meant for the cold of Skyrim, but they are meant for the long roads that take them where they may.

So, of course, Ja'tesh was lying. He didn't really notice it, not at first. It had become so easy for him. So natural. Almost like breathing.

"It's only going to get harder," she said, stopping to wait for him to catch up. "We leave the road here."

Ja'tesh caught his breath and followed her gaze to the endless dark of the forest. "Here?"

"That's what I said." She stepped into the woods, footsteps instantly dampened by the mossy ground. He trailed behind her, not wholly willingly.

"We do not like the forest," he said. "We prefer to stick to the path. Less…unsavoury folk there." He peered around him. The canopy above was so thick that even the afternoon sun had trouble piercing through.

"Unsavoury folk? You mean people like you?"

He smiled. "A good joke in bad taste. But Ja'tesh appreciates it the same."

She didn't answer.

"Where are you leading me? This one hopes it is not to some jail or headsman's block. Ja'tesh has been there one too many times."

She seemed to ignore his last pathetic attempt at a joke. Oh well. "We follow the river west to Ivarstead. It's quicker than taking the way around. I know of a pass near the falls. From there we head north for a half day then turn west again." She paused to brush a branch out of her path but did not hold it for him. He had to scramble over it. "The mountains are dangerous this time of year so we'll stick to the plains. Go up near Whiterun. Depending on how we make time, we might go round to Morthal then back up. Or go through the mountains."

"Ja'tesh thought you said the mountains were dangerous, no?"

"I did."

"Hm. Of course. You would be right."

No reply.

"So, how long will this little venture take?"

"Why?" she asked, eyeing him.

He hesitated. "This one has… _things_ that need tending to. Places to be, people to see. You know."

"No. I don't. It doesn't involve scaling any more walls, does it?"

"No, no, of course not. Ja'tesh is _much_ more respectable than that."

"I'm sure you are."

He let it go. This Lioness was obviously going to do things on her own time.

* * *

"Why did you bring this one along, anyway?" he asked some hours later. The day was getting warmer as the sun rose higher, but now it was beginning to sink.

He'd learned that the days here had quite the difference in warmth between a few mere hours, not like the forever warm sun of his homeland.

He'd also learned that the Lioness did not like small talk. Or large talk. Talk of any kind, really.

Ja'tesh was beginning to get bored and jittery. He hated not knowing things. And he hated staring at the Lioness's back for hours upon hours.

"Because I need someone to come get my sword with me. I can't send you alone cause you'll die before you get to the ruins. And even if you do, you'd sell it before you left."

"Ah, you put so much faith in poor Ja'tesh."

She did not answer him. He grit his teeth.

"But _why_ choose Ja'tesh? This one is not… hmm, how do you put it?… is not –"

"Strong? Fit? A warrior worthy of such a task?"

He frowned. "We were going for _not quite suited_ but those work as well. Ja'tesh is no liar. He knows when –"

"No liar? We shall see."

The Khajiit smiled bitterly to himself. "The Lioness does not let Ja'tesh finish what he is going to say. Why is that?"

She stopped in her tracks and he almost ran into her.

"What did you call me?" she whipped around, genuine intrigue in her eyes. And maybe a bit of irritation. He couldn't tell. His head was starting to hurt. He needed more Sugar.

"The – Lioness?" he frowned, thinking for a moment. "Hmm…Nothing? Ah, which would make you less angry?"

"Cat, what did you say?"

He swallowed. "We called you Lioness because we do not know your name."

He watched her ponder that for a moment, face neither pleased nor annoyed. She was tough to read. He wasn't sure if he liked that or not.

He took another chance again, because why not? Really, what did he have to lose? Besides his head, of course, but he'd already managed to slip out of that debacle once before.

"May we know your name?"

"No. No names." She'd said the same last night.

"Then Ja'tesh will have to call you Lioness."

She frowned, her mane of hair falling around her face, and then shrugged.

"It will do. For now."

She turned around and resumed trekking through the woods. Ja'tesh smiled and followed suit.

"So tell us, Lioness," he started, terribly worried they'd lapse into another silence, "how did your weapon get stolen?"

"I wasn't looking."

He sighed, shaking his head. His earrings clinked together and rung out in the eerily still forest. "We meant who stole it?"

"A thief."

He smiled dryly. "We cannot tell if you are sharp as a whip or dull as a blade."

"Say things like that and you'll find yourself at the end of one."

He held up his hands in innocence but she wasn't facing him. "Ja'tesh means no harm. He is simply observing. The Lioness does not give him much to go on."

"And it will stay that way." She slowed down enough to allow him to walk beside her. He was nervous, no doubt, but he was pretty sure his shaking hands were because of the Sugar. He needed it. Soon. How long would they walk? It seemed like they'd being going for _days_.

"Look, Cat – "

"Ja'tesh, if you please."

She frowned a little. "I am retrieving my sword and you are coming along. Once I have it back, you are free to continue whatever foul business you were doing when I stopped you. _Away_ from Riften. There is no need for niceties along the way."

Ja'tesh fought back the urge to smile.

So. This Lioness liked playing games. Liked beating around the bush. She still had not told him why he was here, or what exactly they were retrieving, or how on all Nine Divines she thought he'd be of any use.

But he was a Khajiit, a _cat_, and cats are curious. Simple as that. Perhaps Ja'tesh more so. Perhaps that's why he'd gotten into such trouble over the years, why he'd left Elseweyr, why he'd ever tried Moon Sugar in the first place.

He could play along. It was what he was always best at.

"Such a shame," he purred, fingering the little pockets of his shabby tunic impatiently, "but Ja'tesh will do as you ask. Tell us one thing, though," he smiled, nodding to the faint white line crossing the back of her hand, proud of his perceptive abilities. "Where did you get that scar?"

"From a Khajiit I killed."

"Oh?" he asked, noticing as she absentmindedly rubbed at it. " And what did he do?"

"He asked too many questions."

Perhaps just a _bit_ of silence would be appreciated.

* * *

Ja'tesh decided that night that he _hated_ camping.

It wasn't just how long it took to set up a tent, or how much prickly underbrush you had to crawl through to find dry firewood. It wasn't really how cold and rocky the ground was underneath your tired body. And it wasn't the fact that they'd have to ration their food until they reached Ivarstead because he'd been clumsy and dropped his travelling pack into a stream. He'd eaten very little that night.

No. It was how utterly silent and _lonely_ it was.

There was a reason the Khajiit stuck to the cities. There were throngs of people and noises and smells and commotion all simply _buzzing_ at all hours of the day. He could be anyone or no one in a city large enough. He could come and go as he pleased and no one would ever notice. No one would ever care.

He'd been alone most of his life but this was different. He was _lonely._

And Ja'tesh couldn't quite remember the last time he'd just sat there in absolute silence.

He thought too much when that happened, and he never liked to think about things. Things that were, things that are, and some things he could have changed but he'd been too scared and ashamed.

So the city was a blessing. It clouded his mind as the Sugar took its hold, and both complemented each other perfectly. Just enough for him to forget. To keep busy. To not think.

And so, under the quiet of the night and the light of a million little stars, the Khajiit decided to slip out of the camp and make his way back to the city.

He silently gathered up what little belongings he had into his tattered travelling sack and then some, making sure to take the lion's share of their food. His nimble fingers even managed to swipe the Lioness's coin purse from deep within her own travelling sack. He had been enchanted by her enigma and so had enough decency to leave her with a few coins and enough food to reach Ivarstead if she still desired.

Hey, thieves can have morals, too.

Taking off his holey boots and using the soft pads of his cat feet, he tiptoed out of the campsite, past the Lioness's sleeping form, and into the night.

If he were being honest (which was so hard sometimes) he almost felt a sort of _pity_ for the Lioness. Sure, she was a very large, mostly silent woman with a scarred, hardened face who could probably kill him with the flick of a wrist, but there was something about her that caught his attention. Maybe it was because she hadn't questioned him or frowned down at him like so many others had done. Maybe because she didn't seem to care he was a cheap, lowly sneak-thief - that or she truly _was_ thick. He didn't know.

He almost turned back when he reached the river. He stood by the bank and stared into its depths, wondering, thinking, watching the moonlight scatter upon the surface. But he kept going. He'd run away again and he kept going. That's all he'd ever known. All he was ever good for.

A rustling in the shrubs not far from where he stood caused his ears to swivel in that direction. He squinted his eyes but even with his night-vision he couldn't see anything.

Something rustled again, and he froze. His blood turned cold.

_"Cat! Get Down!"_

But the sabre-tooth had burst from the bushes before he'd had a chance to heed the Lioness's words. He dove out of the way, but the gigantic cat's claws snagged at his arm and red-hot pain blossomed where the thin fabric of his tunic had torn.

Heart thrashing against his ribs like a bird in a cage, the Khajiit cowered into the rushes and weeds near the bank slope and hid his face in his arms as he tried not to concentrate on the growls of the sabre-tooth and the cries of the Nord woman and the splashes they caused in their warring near the riverbank.

He could barely feel the pain in his arm and he certainly could not feel the icy water as it soaked into his clothes and his fur. He wouldn't even notice, until later, that much of the Sugar in his pockets had been waterlogged and useless.

Almost as quickly as it had begun, the noises stopped after a loud, dull thud, and he braved to look up from his hiding spot. Through the reeds he could see the dark mass of the large cat crumpled upon the ground and the shape of the Lioness standing above it. She was clutching at her side in exhaustion and holding a large, jagged greatsword.

Ja'tesh had three thoughts pierce his Skooma-addled mind then.

The first thought was that she looked like a hero in a human book he'd once read, all stoic and brave with her armour glistening in the moonlight. All he could do was stare.

His second thought was that she'd saved his life. He would most certainly be dead if she hadn't come to his rescue.

But his third thought was that of anger. She'd followed him here, sneaking behind him like a cat. How had he not noticed her? Shame coursed through him. A big, stupid Nord had caught him off guard. It was worse than being surprised by the sabre-tooth. And even worse, he'd have to go back now with her, back to the camp and the silence and the loneliness. She'd most certainly be more wary of him now. Or maybe she'd simply kill him. He didn't know. He didn't care.

His wounded pride and his anger got the best of him, and he rose to his feet with a cloud of anger forming on his face.

"You – !" he started, grasping for something, _anything_ to say. "You followed us here! That cat heard you! Look what you did!" The Lioness turned to him as he held out his arm. It wasn't terribly bad, and he'd been lucky, but it definitely looked worse than it was and it still bled down and stained his shirt. "You almost killed us!"

He must have looked pathetic, standing there, dripping and shivering and crying out to the woman who doubled him in mass.

"Killed – killed you?" she said, clearly taken aback by his anger. He didn't seem to care she'd just saved his worthless hide.

"Yes!" he growled, baring his teeth, sure they were glinting in the dark. "Ja'tesh could have dealt with it on his own!"

"Dealt with it?" she gaped, face starting to mirror his own. "I saved your life! I helped you – you would have died!"

"Us Khajiit do not need help from you slobbering Nord _trolls_," he hissed, flexing his claws in anger. "Ja'tesh can look after _himself_. He has his ways! He does not need you to save him!"

She stood there, mouth open, simply speechless at this turn of events. He'd never seen her like that. And like a cat cornered by a dog, he saw her weakness and saw his way out. Maybe he could still be free from this quest, this painful loneliness.

Ja'tesh lowered his voice into what he hoped was a menacingly dangerous growl. "You should leave now before this one shows you what he means."

That didn't work. Not at all. She strode up to him, so close and towering over him that it took everything he had not to cower down into the rushes like before, and raised her fist as if she would punch him again. He winced involuntarily and she hesitated for a moment, indecision and rage and disbelief and a thousand other emotions flashing across her normally stony face. She was frightening, and she knew that.

She lowered her hand after what felt like a lifetime and sighed, and Ja'tesh let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Three –" she paused, clearing her throat. "Three things, Cat. One – do not threaten me. I do not deserve it."

Ja'tesh stopped growling, hiding his teeth. What –?

"Two – no stealing. No sneaking off."

Oh.

"And three – give me back my coin purse."

He reached into his pocket and handed her back her money almost without realising what he was doing. She straightened up and tucked it away into some pocket before sheathing her blood-stained sword.

"This arrangement will not work if you break all three rules. Twice, in one day. This is it, Cat. Do _not_ break them again."

And she left him standing there in the dark in the reeds by the bank of the river, shoeless, penniless, and absolutely dumbstruck.

He'd blown his chances in most everything he'd done in life. It was just him and his bad decisions, though he normally blamed them on the gods. He rarely got second chances. And he'd never, in all his long days under the sun, received three.

The Lioness gave him a third chance. In the span of one day.

Last night after she'd found him.

This morning after he'd nearly caused Aerin to wet himself.

And just now, after he'd run away, stole from her, and called her a whole host of nasty, unfair names. After she'd saved his life, given him food and shelter and fire and companionship, however jolted and rare it was.

She'd done more for him in a day than anyone ever had in his life.

He didn't know what to think. He didn't know what to do.

So he stood there, ankle-deep in the freezing waters of Skyrim, and heard crickets. He heard the river moving slowly on its ever-wandering, ageless journey to the sea. And he heard a lonely nightingale. It was not silent.

And looking up, Ja'tesh saw a million little stars glittering deep in the velvet of a night with two moons. He knew them all, their stories and their names. He knew them in a familiar way, the way he knew his own hands.

But they looked so much bigger and brighter and beautiful without the streetlamps or crumbling buildings of a dirty city blocking them from view.

Maybe he could learn to love them like this. Maybe he could learn to listen to the silence.

He smiled and he absentmindedly rubbed at his bruised nose.

* * *

**Here are your review replies, as promised!**

**MasterAssassinScrolls: Thanks for your review! Glad you have such confidence in this story! Haha, I don't really have a plan for it, it being all quick and practicey, you know. But we'll see where this goes. And really? You liked Aerin? Well, I guess he wasn't too bad, but he just never seemed to leave Mjoll alone. Like seriously, he'd follow us even into a dragon fight! Talk about obsessed much. I actually included him in this chapter for a little bit just for you! Sorry, though, but Ja'tesh is on my side. He doesn't look too kindly on him. Anyways, thanks so much again, and hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**TheGreatJabberyJamie: Hey! Thanks for reading this story as well as Oblivious! Hope it lives up to your expectations! Glad you like Ja'tesh. He's pretty cowardly in this chapter, but he'll change soon, I think. There wasn't too much mention of addiction here, but hey, can't have it all, I guess. Thanks for your amazing support, and enjoy!**

**Guest (Cyclone): Thanks for your review! Hope you like this chapter!**

**Didd23:Thanks so much for your review! I know, there's not many Khajiit stories out there in the first place, let alone Khajiit _romance_, let alone a _Khajiit Nord romance! _So I thought that needed to change. Hope you like this one. Enjoy!**

**poBBpC: Thanks so much for your review! Glad you're enjoying my newer stories! I'm still working on Oblivious and For After We Start, but here's this one for you! Thanks for your amazing support!**


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